


Twelve Days

by ScullyGolightly



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Bath Sex, Case Fic, Christmas, F/M, Fluff, Holidays, MSR, Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex, Resolved Sexual Tension, Smut, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-24 05:09:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 15,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17094497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScullyGolightly/pseuds/ScullyGolightly
Summary: Mulder and Scully investigate a case over ChristmasTakes place sometime during Season 5 after "Emily" but before "The End"





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fragilevixen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fragilevixen/gifts).



> I was picked to write a fic for the lovely fragilevixen (@fragilevixenfic on Twitter) for the 2018 Secret Santa Fic Exchange.
> 
> Her prompts were UST/RST, casefic, smut, fluff in character, hurt/comfort with Seasons 5 and 6 being her favorite. I tried to fit in as much of that as I could.
> 
> Also, she specified to have fun, and I really did. It was a simple message that allowed me to let go of my usual anxiety, so I thank her for that!
> 
> This is my first case fic so I hope that part of it isn't completely ridiculous. I tried, guys.

12 DAYS BEFORE CHRISTMAS  
TRAUTWEIN RESIDENCE  
NEW BUDA, IOWA  
3:40 AM

 

Mary Jane Trautwein padded downstairs, sleepily. She had gotten up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom and then remembered she had forgotten to move that fucking elf on a shelf to a new spot. Her five-year-old daughter, Natalie, had named her elf Bowie after her older sister’s favorite musician, and was taking the whole thing very seriously.

 

Mary Jane felt the gust of cold air first when she was about halfway down the staircase. Still mostly asleep, she didn’t become alarmed, she just thought it was odd. When she reached the last step, Bowie the Elf’s head rolled into the space on the wood floor at the foot of the stairs. Mary Jane squinted to focus her tired eyes and gasped, snapping fully awake. She leaned down to pick it up, but stopped, frozen with fear, when a muddy, cloven hoof stepped into view.

 

She stumbled back, bracing herself on the wall, and slowly drew her gaze up, seeing a tall, looming creature standing there staring at her. It had large, thick horns coming out from the top of its head that curved back, pointy ears, a long, hooked nose, and beady eyes—its towering frame was covered in coarse, black hair. Mary Jane opened her mouth to scream, but only a shaky, shallow breath came out.

 

The figure stooped and picked up the elf’s head with its knobby, grotesque hand. Its fingernails were long and pointed, and yellowed. One left a scratch mark on the floor. Aside from these horrifying features, the hand was human-like, wrinkled and rough with small patches of hair at the knuckles.

 

Mary Jane started to inch back up the stairs, her back pressed against the wall. The creature’s head tilted, then it opened its mouth, baring two rows of sharp teeth. But it was the tongue that snapped Mary Jane out of her frightened trance. It snaked out from the black cavern of the monster’s mouth, thick and black and pointed at the end, rolling out toward her. There were about three feet between her and the creature, and the tip of the tongue had almost reached her.

 

She broke out into a run up the stairs, taking two at a time, but tripping over herself in her mad scramble. “Seamus! Seamus!” Mary Jane yelled her husband’s name as she ran down the hallway to their bedroom.

 

“MJ?” he said, sitting up. “What’s wrong?”

 

“Th-th-th-” She could not form one word; she stuttered and pointed toward the hallway.

 

Seamus jumped from the bed and ran out of the room. Mary Jane crouched down in the corner and felt up on the nightstand for the cordless phone with her shaking hand. She tried to dial 9-1-1, and was successful on the third attempt. “There’s something in the house,” she whispered.


	2. Chapter 2

11 DAYS BEFORE CHRISTMAS  
FBI HEADQUARTERS  
WASHINGTON, DC  
8:33 AM

 

Mulder was thrilled when he got the call. It was a way to weasel Scully into spending Christmas with him. After the tragic events of last year, first spending it by himself and then everything that had happened with Emily, Mulder did not want to be alone for the holiday. Well, mostly he did not want to be away from Scully. He would keep that haunted house of Maurice and Lyda’s for another year.

 

Scully walked into their office in a not-so-festive black pantsuit and an overcoat which she took off and hung on the coat rack. “Morning,” she said, tossing the perfunctory greeting at him.

 

“Good morning, Scully,” he replied, trying to contain his smile. “I’ve got a case for us. I hope it doesn’t ruin your holiday plans,” said Mulder, knowing it would and unabashedly being happy about it.

 

Scully made her usual annoyed face, but actually welcomed the idea of getting out of forced merriment with her family. “What is it?” she asked, sitting down across from him.

 

“Have you been naughty or nice this year, Scully?”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“Well, depending on your behavior,” he explained, standing and grabbing a piece of paper from the printer tray, “would you be visited by St. Nick or Krampus?”

 

“By a what-us?”

 

“Krampus. I know it sounds like an over the counter, generic PMS medication, but it’s not. It’s much more evil than that.” He handed her the paper. On it was a photocopy of a page from a pagan folklore book with an image of said creature and a description.

 

“An anti-Santa?” she asked, skeptically, after reading it.

 

“Essentially, yes.”

 

Scully rolled her eyes. “And what are we investigating? Someone finding coal in their stocking?”

 

“Yes, that’s it exactly.”

 

She narrowed her gaze on him when she didn’t detect any sarcasm in his response, and put on her best, and well-practiced, Mulder-what-gives? expression. It worked. He handed her the file.

 

Mulder watched her as she read it. Finally, she looked up and said, “You want us to go all the way to Iowa for a breaking and entering? Why don’t we use our time on a real X-File, like whether or not _Die Hard_ is a Christmas movie?”

 

Mulder chuckled. “Oh, Scully. Silly Scully. That’s been proven. It is not only unequivocally a Christmas movie, it is the best Christmas movie.”

 

“But Bruce Willis said--”

 

“I don’t give a fuck what he said,” stated Mulder with mock seriousness which was more serious than it was mocking.

 

Scully smiled, biting back a laugh. “Okay, Mulder.”

 

“'Okay' what?”

 

“We’ll go to Iowa and investigate this glorified Grinch nonsense.”

 

He grinned. “Yippee-ki-yay, motherfucker!”


	3. Chapter 3

10 DAYS BEFORE CHRISTMAS  
TRAUTWEIN RESIDENCE  
NEW BUDA, IOWA  
10:02 AM

 

“We didn’t even know the cellar was here,” said Seamus. He was showing Mulder and Scully how the intruder had apparently gotten in. There was a door beneath the pantry floorboards that led to a cellar which had a moderate-sized crawlspace going out to the back of the house.

 

“How long have you lived in this house?” asked Mulder.

 

“Five years, moved in just before we had Natalie. We bought it from the bank at a public auction.”

 

Mulder nodded, taking a last glance around. “Thank you, Mr. Trautwein. We’ll let you know if we have any more questions.”

 

Seamus and Mulder went back up the steps, followed by Scully who stopped when something caught her eye. Next to the steps on the ground was part of a metal shackle—a single closed loop with a bit of chain hanging off it. She pulled an evidence bag out of her pocket and bagged it.

 

Scully held it up to Mulder when she got back into the kitchen, making a curious shrug. His eyes widened at the implication of such evidence. In Krampus lore, the demon is usually seen equipped with chains that were meant to keep him confined to Hell. Before he could say as much, he felt a tugging of his jacket sleeve. Mulder turned to see a little girl standing next to him.

 

“Mr. Mulder, will you find out who hurt Bowie?” asked Natalie.

 

He crouched down, becoming her height. “I’m going to try.”

 

“Mommy says it wasn’t ‘cause I was bad. I’ve been extra good this year.”

 

“I’m sure you have. What happened was not your fault.”

 

“Do you think Santa will be able to fix him?”

 

The parents had told him and Scully that they “sent” Bowie back to the North Pole so Santa could make him better. They were trying to find a new one, but the stores were sold out. The poor, decapitated thing was really in the evidence room down at the police station. “I hope so. I’d like to meet him.” She smiled.

 

Scully had been watching their exchange, trying to tamp down nagging emotions. She couldn’t help but think of Emily. Mulder had been so good with her, just as he was now with Natalie. There was a pang in her chest, and she left the room. Every blonde little girl was a reminder. And her increasing gloom as Christmas approached made her fear that the holidays themselves would become a grim memoriam to her loss.  

 

Mulder eyed her as she walked past them. Her downcast eyes held a sadness and her posture was burdened. He stood. “See ya later, Natalie,” said Mulder. “Thanks again, Mr. Trautwein.”

 

Mulder went to catch up with Scully who was waiting outside holding an open umbrella over herself. Snow flurries had started since they had been inside questioning the Trautweins. “Good find on that shackle, Scully.”

 

“We should tell the sheriff to come back and do a more thorough search of the cellar.” Scully lifted the umbrella so it would cover Mulder.

 

“I think so, too. They might find more of that goat hair.”

 

“I was thinking fingerprints, Mulder,” she said and started walking to their rental car.  

 

“C’mon, Scully. You don’t believe Mrs. Trautwein’s story?”

 

“This surprises you?”

 

“I thought she was pretty convincing.”

 

“Also not surprising.” She stopped and stood next to the passenger door. “You have the key.”

 

Mulder patted his pockets and pulled the car key out. “Her description was spot on, don’t you think?”

 

“Yes, Mulder, too spot on. She was half asleep. It could’ve been an image from a dream or a nightmare she’d been having. Coupled with the time of year and all the fantasy and illusion, it could’ve very well been planted in her subconscious and she manifested this monster to go with the state of the house and the break-in. I mean, that elf on the shelf thing is basically used in the same way stories of Krampus are used—to scare children into behaving. All of this is on her mind, her half-asleep mind, and she walks in on an intruder.”

 

“How does that explain the goat hair and the hoof prints?”

 

“It doesn’t, but I’m sure there’s an explanation for that.”

 

“The coal found in the stockings?”

 

“Someone playing a prank,” she said. “Now if you’ve had enough of our signature believer/skeptic back and forth, I’d like to get out of the cold.”

 

Mulder smiled, the comment warming his insides. Scully closed the umbrella and shook it before cinching the strap around it. Tiny, white snowflakes landed in her hair, and Mulder continued to smile as he stared at her.

 

“Mulder?”

 

“Hm?”

 

“Unlock the car,” she said.

 

“Oh right, sorry.” He pressed the button on the key fob and opened the car door for her.

 

She wrinkled her brow at him as she stepped by to get into the car. He was standing awfully close to her; her shoulder brushed along his chest. There was a fluttering in her stomach as the smell of him reached her nose. He smelled like soap and coffee which was not a combination that should cause any stirrings, but along with the scent of freshly fallen snow and smoke from cozy, wood fires in the air, it did have an effect on her. Plus, the way he had been looking at her…

 

“Scully.”

 

“Hm?”

 

“Watch your coat.”

 

She looked down and saw it was hanging outside the car. “Oh,” she said, pulling it in. He shut the door and walked around to the driver’s side, grinning, that warm feeling inside him spreading.

  


NEW BUDA SHERIFF’S STATION  
6:10 PM

 

Mulder walked into the Sheriff’s Station after a day of questioning the Trautwein’s neighbors. Scully had been here analyzing and comparing the evidence and lab reports, of which there was a lot, and it all seemed to support Mulder’s Krampus theory.

 

The station was bustling, not with police work, but with festive revelry. There was a table with two punch bowls, a large supply of liquor and plastic stemware; and another one loaded down with platters of food. “Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer” was blasting from a boombox next to the Christmas tree. Decorations covered every desk and every wall, garland and poinsettias, tinsel and strands of lights.

 

Mulder found Scully in the back in an interrogation room—the only interrogation room which doubled as a supply closet. New Buda was a very small town, a township actually, with a population of just under 300, thus their police station was small as well.

 

She glanced up at him and then took off her glasses and started to pack up the paperwork she had been going over. “Keep it down in here, Scully,” he joked. “They’re trying to have a party out there.”

 

“I am aware. They informed me at about noon that they were getting ready for their office party. It started out relatively tame, but then they put the liquor out. I think there’s an officer passed out in holding.”

 

“So I take it they didn’t go back to the Trautwein’s to go over the cellar again?”

 

Scully laughed and shook her head, the same way the sheriff had when she asked him to do it. The New Buda Police Christmas party was a big deal, apparently, and took priority over actual police work.

 

“I’m going to grab us some plates of food. Meet you at the car?”

 

“Okay,” said Scully, gathering her things.

  


NINE EAGLES MOTOR LODGE  
8:12 PM

 

They had eaten together in Mulder’s room, then Scully said she was going to take a shower and go to bed. Mulder was disappointed. Seeing the officers enjoying themselves and letting loose had made him want to do the same with Scully. He contemplated going for a run, but the snow had really started to come down, so he changed into his sweats and turned on the tv.

 

Flipping through the channels he came across a Christmas movie—not just any Christmas movie, the _best_ Christmas movie. He jumped up, went to the door that adjoined his and Scully’s rooms, and knocked. “Scully, you’re not going to believe this,” he called out through the door.

 

She opened it. The room was dark behind her and she was in her pajamas, a navy blue cotton set, her hair still wet from the shower. “What is it?”

 

“ _Die Hard_ is on. Come watch it with me.”

 

Scully gulped. All she heard was “hard on” and all she saw was Mulder’s bare chest. He was just wearing sweatpants; they hung rather low on his hips. “What?” she replied, hoping that her prurient gaze came off as simple drowsiness.

 

“Come on,” he urged again. “I swiped some brandy and eggnog from the station.”

 

“Okay,” she said, reluctantly, coming into his room.

 

They were sat on the floor, resting their backs against the foot of the bed, several glasses of spiked eggnog later, watching the big climax of the movie. Hans Gruber had just fallen to his death. Scully held her empty glass out to Mulder.

 

“We’re out of eggnog,” he said, his voice slightly slurred. Mulder poured a splash of brandy into her glass. He got no protest from her so he poured a little bit more and then some into his glass as well.

 

When the credits began to roll, Scully knocked back the rest of her drink and stood up, stumbling a bit. Mulder stood, too, a panic rising in him that their night would be over. He went over to the clock radio on the nightstand and searched for some Christmas music.

 

“What are you doing?” Scully asked, amused, then she hiccupped.

 

Mulder grinned because it was just about the cutest thing he had ever seen. “Jingle Bell Rock” came out through the small speaker, a little crackly but still cheerful and merry. “Just continuing the festivities from the station.”

 

“From some random office party? An office of which we’re not a part, by the way.”

 

“Yeah,” he said, still grinning, marveling at her ability to speak so grammatically correct while being a bit more than tipsy. Mulder walked over to her, snapping his fingers and with a peppy little sway in his step. “Dance with me, Scully.”

 

He took her hand and spun her around once, then grasped her other hand and moved them both to the upbeat rhythm of the song. He felt her hesitation, but it was there for only a moment; she moved along with him, a smile on her face.

 

The song ended, and it was followed by “Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas.” Judy Garland crooned the somber tune with the optimistic lyrics. Scully had always thought the song to be a paradox. She felt further conflicted when Mulder drew her in close, putting his arms around her and swaying their bodies slowly side to side.

 

Scully had always had an attraction to him, almost from the very beginning, but she had wanted to remain professional. As their bond grew stronger, she resisted her romantic inclinations so as not to disrupt their work partnership which had become a deeply important friendship. After her cancer had gone into remission, she had briefly entertained the idea and made several pointed attempts at flirting, but he had politely rebuffed them. She wasn’t sure if it was out of nervousness—she had almost just died—or if he really didn’t think of her that way.

 

But now here they were slow dancing in their pajamas. She felt hot. There was the heat from him, her head rested against his chest, as well as the brandy in her bloodstream. She was drunk off of more than just liquor, though. He was drunk, too. That knowledge, or her drunken grasp of the fact, made her anxious. Was he acting this way because of the alcohol or had he drank the alcohol so he could act this way? She wanted something to happen, but not because they were both under an influence.

 

She heard him hum, or rather felt it in the soft vibration of his chest. “Should’ve swiped some mistletoe, too,” he said.

 

Scully pulled back and looked at him, searching for the meaning behind his words. Was it just innocent innuendo or something more? He smiled, sheepishly. She put her hand on his chest to keep him from leaning forward, suddenly afraid that he meant to kiss her—which was something that she wanted him to do. Her head needed to be clear for this, though. He looked at her questioningly.

 

“I, uh, I think I should,” she faltered, “think I need to go to bed.”

 

She saw his face fall for a moment. “You sure?” he asked.

 

Scully nodded and stepped back. “Um, I, this was fun, though. I just…” Scully pointed at the near-empty bottle of brandy and made a waving motion at her head. “It’s just hitting me now, I think.”

 

“All right.”

 

She walked to the adjoining door. “Goodnight, Mulder,” she said, turning back to him.

 

He pressed his lips together, forming a crestfallen smile. “Goodnight, Scully.”

 

After she closed the door, he went over to the radio and shut it off, then sat on the bed, rubbing his face with his hands and kicking himself for taking it too far. Damn liquid courage, he thought.


	4. Chapter 4

9 DAYS BEFORE CHRISTMAS  
NEW BUDA SHERIFF’S STATION  
8:53 AM

 

“I’m sorry, Agent Scully, everyone is moving a bit slowly this morning,” said Sheriff Pace. “We’ll get some officers over there soon.” He sat down in his chair, reclined back, and placed an old-fashioned cloth ice bag on his forehead.

 

She sighed and looked at Mulder who shrugged. “There are two neighbors that weren’t home yesterday. Let’s go talk to them.”

 

First up was Francine Stableman. She lived in the house behind the Trautwein’s; their backyards shared a fence. Mulder rang the doorbell and waited, but there was no answer. He tried again. Someone called out from across the street, “Hello there!”

 

An older man was walking up to them. “Mrs. Stableman is visiting her sister in Peoria.”

 

“Oh. Do you know when she left?” asked Scully.

 

“A couple of days ago, I think.”

 

“Was she here Saturday night?”

 

The man thought for a moment and then looked at both of them, stumped. He pushed air through his mouth, then said, “Gee, I couldn’t tell ya.”

 

“That’s all right. Thank you, Mister..?”

 

“Perchta. Julian Perchta.”

 

“Mr. Perchta, is that your house there?” Mulder asked, pointing across the street.

 

“It sure is.”

 

“It’s very ...festive.”

 

“I do enjoy the holidays. Maybe a little too much,” he said, chuckling. “My wife used to call me Clark Griswold.”

 

“I bet it’s something when it’s all lit up.”

 

“Oh yes! You and your wife should come see it at night.”

 

Mulder huffed out a laugh. Scully suppressed a weighty sigh. “We’re not married, Mr. Perchta. We are agents from the FBI.” They both got out their badges to show him. A concerned look crossed his face, then was quickly replaced with a smile.

 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to assume. Well, you two agents,” he said with a wink, “oughta come by tonight. It’s a sight. I can make some hot cocoa for ya. Or something stronger,” he added, making a nudging motion with his elbow toward Mulder. “I make my own distilled fruit brandy.”

 

Scully swallowed, grimacing at the mention of brandy. She had been feeling queasy all morning. Mulder gave her a quick sideways glance. “That’s very kind, but we have some pressing business,” he told the man. “We will try to drive by and look at the lights, though.”

 

“Right, right. Okay then.” He gave a wave and jogged back across the street to his house.

 

Mulder and Scully looked at each other. “Did you almost hurl when he said ‘brandy,’ too?” asked Mulder, putting his hand to his stomach.

 

Scully groaned and nodded.

  


NINE EAGLES MOTOR LODGE  
5:42 PM

 

“Okay, thank you, Sheriff,” Mulder said into the phone, then hung up, giving Scully a disappointed look. “He sent a crew over there late in the afternoon and then the Trautweins asked if they could wait until tomorrow so as not to disrupt their family dinner.”

 

“You’d think they’d want to get to the bottom of it,” Scully reasoned.

 

Mulder shrugged, tossed his phone onto the bed, and shrugged off his coat jacket and toed off his shoes simultaneously. Scully glanced at him and then back down at the fax she was reading, wondering how far he would go in undressing.

 

“The report from the lab says that the metal shackle isn’t commercially made,” she said. “Welded by an individual with sufficient experience, though.”

 

“Hm.” Mulder contemplated the information. Then the shirt was off. Scully started to put the paperwork back into the folders, trying not to look hurried.

 

She heard the unbuckling of his belt as she got everything into her computer bag, and turned to go to the adjoining door, purposefully deflecting her gaze away from Mulder.

 

“Where’re you going?”

 

Scully turned around. “Just, uh, just to my room,” she said, motioning back toward the door.

 

“Wanna order a pizza?” asked Mulder, smiling.

 

He stood there in a thin, white undershirt, his arms exposed, taut biceps and shoulders. She could even see the cut muscles of his chest and abs through the fabric. Scully self-consciously licked her lips. “Yeah, okay, let me, uh…” Let me fucking live, man, she thought. Christ, he was good looking.

 

“Yeah, go change. I’ll order it.”

 

After mulling over what exactly to change into, Scully decided it wouldn’t be too weird to wear her pajamas since she had worn them last night during their little drunken hangout. Although she swapped the long sleeve button-up top for a light heather gray t-shirt, forgoing her bra. It might’ve been a bold move, but she convinced herself it was purely for the sake of comfort.

 

When she came back into Mulder’s room, he was sitting at the foot of the bed back in his sweats with a black t-shirt on, remote in hand. “I found a Christmas movie that’s probably more up your alley,” he said, pointing at the screen. “ _The Bishop’s Wife._ ”

 

“Oh, I do love that one,” said Scully, her previous nerves falling away. She sat down next to him. “It’s my mom’s favorite.”  

 

They sat side by side and watched for a little while, the movie had just started. Then the pizza arrived and they moved to the middle of the bed, both cross-legged with the pizza box between them.

 

“Do you believe in guardian angels, Scully?”

 

She thought for a moment. “I do. I don’t think it’s like this, though” she said, gesturing at the tv. “But I wouldn’t mind having Cary Grant as mine.”

 

“Don’t blame you there. He is pretty dreamy,” Mulder quipped.

 

Scully giggled, then set down her slice of pizza and became pensive. “I never told you this, but when I was returned after my abduction, there was a nurse, Nurse Owens, that helped me.” Mulder was watching her intently; it made her a bit unsure, but she continued, “I was unconscious, you know, but when I woke up I could remember some things, like a dream? I remember my father visited me, but I knew he was dead and that really was like a dream—whatever he said to me, all the details besides his face faded away.

 

“And then there was this nurse. It seemed different than the vision of my father. She was, I don’t know, clearer somehow. My vision of her felt rooted in reality.” Scully paused; she had never tried to articulate any of this before. “I heard her, I saw her clearly—clear enough to describe her when I woke up. I asked the nurse about her and she told me there was no one at the hospital that fit that description.” Scully shrugged. “I think she was a sort of guardian angel.”

 

Mulder was taken aback by Scully’s sudden openness. He nodded; he didn’t believe in any religious facets, especially Catholic ones, but he believed Scully, even agreed with her—that if guardian angels did exist, Scully’s Nurse Owens was definitely one. “What did she say to you?”

 

“Oh, I don’t remember specifically; comforting things—that she was taking care of me, watching over me,” she recalled. “It was what you said, though,” Scully confided, her voice soft. “That’s what brought me back.”

 

Mulder watched her face; she was looking down. He hadn’t expected all this emotion when he first asked the question, and he could tell that she hadn’t intended to take it there, either.

 

He tried to think of something to say, something light, but she had the same thought and beat him to it. “Oh no, are you my guardian angel, Mulder?” she asked with dread, looking at him now and teasing him with a smile.

 

He chuckled. “I don't think a guardian angel would annoy you and pester you about aliens so much.”

 

“Good point,” she laughed.

 

“And I’m no Cary Grant.”

 

“No, you’re not.”

 

“Hey!” he said, playfully swatting her arm. “You don’t have to agree so quickly.”  

 

They finished the pizza; Mulder tossed the box on the floor and scooted to sit back against the headboard. Scully looked back at him, museful, and then followed suit, adjusting a pillow behind her.

 

Cary Grant continued to charm Loretta Young and infuriate David Niven as Mulder and Scully watched on. At one point, Mulder saw Scully yawn out of the corner of his eye so he positioned his pillow on his lap and gestured to her to lie down, which she did following a flash of hesitation.

 

She fell asleep rather quickly, and Mulder spent the remainder of the movie trying to resist touching her, feeling the softness of her cheek or running his fingers lightly through her hair. He was more than content to just have her near him, safe and warm, and he was grateful for these last two nights where they had been able to enjoy each other’s company without work weighing too heavily on their time.

 

The movie ended, and now Mulder did brush her hair aside, his fingers lingering, then he said her name softly. She roused slowly, blinking and looking up at him.

 

“Movie’s over,” said Mulder.

 

She turned to look at the screen, apparently needing proof even for this, then back at him. As she moved up into a sitting position she paused when their faces got close. Her lips parted, a shallow intake of breath—Scully pressed into him, placing a faint kiss on his mouth.

 

The closeness made her do it, and the sleepiness. Her mind wasn’t awake enough to talk her out of it, so she kissed him.

 

And he kissed her back.

 

Oh god, he was really kissing her back. Her head felt weightless and heavy all at once. His lips moved against hers, first just warm, then warm and wet. She pushed her tongue into his mouth wondering when she had decided to do that and realized that her brain had nothing to do with this. These actions were lust-driven, heart-driven.

 

His tongue volleyed with hers, sliding wetly around. Then he nipped at her upper lip, tugging gently with his teeth, before invading her mouth again with his tongue, caressing the inside of her cheeks. She moaned. His hand was cupped at her jawline, and she felt his other arm hug her up and close—closer.

 

His hand moved down to her neck, like a slow, hot drip of candle wax, then slipped over the ridge of her clavicle. The wax didn’t stop and pool there, though, it dropped down to her breast―Mulder palmed her over her t-shirt, and she felt her nipple grow hard underneath. He squeezed and plied his fingers into her softness all while continuing to ravish her mouth.

 

Scully moaned again and it was as if it echoed back to her from his mouth, floating along on one of his breaths. It was that odd sound and its sensation that brought her mind into focus—her now fully alert mind, that unwelcomed third wheel to this long overdue makeout session. Scully pulled back and shifted to sit up. Mulder looked at her, eyes wide and full of heat, his chest jutting up and down, his hair mussed and sticking up—apparently, she had raked her fingers all through it when she pulled him in tighter.

 

“Sorry,” she said, panting. Her lips tingled; they felt swollen.

 

His brow knitted, confused. Scully got off the bed. Mulder started to say her name, but she apologized again and left the room, shutting the adjoining door behind her.

 

Scully leaned back against the door, waiting to see if he would come after and hoping that he wouldn’t. She felt so foolish. Now she had run away from him twice. For some reason she kept making excuses. Last night it had been because they were drunk and tonight...tonight’s apprehension was a little more complicated—her feelings rattled her more than she realized.

 

She had had walls up around her heart for so long that it scared her when just one brick fell out of place. She had already opened up tonight. Scully was sure Mulder didn’t see her as vulnerable, but telling him about Nurse Owens had made her vulnerable—being intimate with him would make her even more so. She could handle dismantling the walls brick by brick, but it terrified her to think what it would do to her if she let all of it come crashing down at once.

 

Her body was on fire, and her hand went up to her lips as she remembered how kissing him had felt. Those lips she had fantasized about, had caught herself staring at while he spoke or shelled a sunflower seed—those lips had been on hers and they had been hungry for her. She started to picture his lips moving down, kissing other parts of her, his tongue darting out to taste her.

 

That kiss had gotten her so turned on, and Scully only had herself to blame—she had initiated it and then she had stopped it. She needed a release; if she didn’t unwind this tight coil inside of her, there was no telling in what irrational way she would act out. Her hand made its way down to the waistline of her pants.

 

Mulder swatted the pillow on his lap aside and looked down at the tent he had pitched in his sweats. It seemed to say “what the fuck,” accusatorially, at him. Mulder shrugged his shoulders, then looked at the adjoining door and sighed, “I don’t know.”

 

And he really didn’t. Should he go after her or give her some space? What he wanted to do was to keep kissing her. The kiss had been everything he had imagined it would be and more. Her lips were soft and inviting, and the eager way she had thrust her tongue into his mouth excited him. Mulder had embraced her immediately, and her body felt charged and electric under him, flooding his own with warm vibrations. Hearing her moan sent a white-hot jolt through his core.

 

Mulder got up and went to the door, hoping the answer of what to do would reveal itself. He put his hand on its surface, but got nothing from it besides an intensifying of his longing to touch her again and another surge of blood shooting down to his dick. Ah, fuck it, he thought, and leaned into the door, shoving his other hand inside his sweats. His gripped his shaft and brushed over the tip with his thumb. There were already drops of pre-cum—that kiss had gotten him so worked up and so quickly, too—he spread it around, pumping his fist up and down his length.

 

On the other side, Scully was working her way toward a climax, her fingers plunging in and out of her depth, her back rigidly against the door. If the door were to suddenly vanish, she would be held up by Mulder, his hand solidly at her left shoulder. They might’ve even heard each other’s heavy breathing if it weren’t for the rushing in their ears as they both drew closer to their orgasms.

 

Scully bit her lip to keep from crying out and pushed her hips away from the door as she came, her whole body shuddering. Mulder managed to make his grunt strangled enough to go unnoticed, but made a noticeable mess inside his sweatpants. There was a moment to regroup, some calming but still tortured breaths, and a disappointment that the night—and the kiss—had led to this, solo fulfillments of mutual urges.

 

Scully walked over to her bed and crawled under the covers, praying that sleep would overtake her so she wouldn’t have to think about her daft behavior and what Mulder must be thinking of her.

 

Mulder changed out of his sweats and put on a pair of boxers. He gave one last sullen look at the closed door and laid down on the bed on top of the covers.


	5. Chapter 5

8 DAYS BEFORE CHRISTMAS  
NINE EAGLES MOTOR LODGE  
7:35 AM

 

Mulder knocked on the door to Scully’s room—the outside door, not the adjoining one—as he balanced two stacked cups of coffee. She opened it and avoided his eyes.

 

“Got you a coffee,” he said, offering her the one on the top. “Ready to go?”

 

She took it. “Thanks.” Scully picked up her computer bag, shouldered it, and finally looked at him. “Yes, ready.” He smiled at her, warmly but sadly. A silent agreement to table any discussion about the events of the previous night for the time being passed between them.

 

Mulder got into the driver’s seat and turned on the heat and then the radio. It was playing Christmas music. He kept it on, deciding that anything was better than an awkward silence. Scully made no objection, sitting stiffly with her hands folded in her lap. About halfway to the station, Mariah Carey’s “All I Want For Christmas Is You” came on and Mulder abruptly shut it off. He couldn’t stand to hear it echo his pining thoughts. Scully gave him a sideways glance, wondering what exactly was going through his mind.

 

When they got to the New Buda Sheriff’s Station, they were pleased to find out that Sheriff Pace had sent a forensic team, or his small town outfit’s version of one, to the Trautwein’s already.

  


TRAUTWEIN RESIDENCE  
8:11 AM

 

Officer Bell pulled back one side of a rickety wooden shelving unit and poked at the wall. The sheetrock seemed to be bowing out. He knocked around the area and heard a hollowness. He pushed more firmly on the bulging spot and some of the plaster flaked off in big chunks. The drywall underneath was stained with striations of black. “Looks like they’ve got mold,” he said to the other officer.

 

“Mold, but no fingerprints,” Officer Tinney replied. She had dusted nearly every touchable surface and had come up with nothing.

 

“It’s hollow here, too,” Bell said. “Think we should knock through it?”

 

“I suppose so. Pace said to be thorough.”

 

“I’ll go get some tools.”

 

The wall crumbled easily after a few blows from a sledgehammer. Tinney, who was now wearing a face mask, stuck her head in the hole and shined a flashlight around. She gasped.

 

“What is it?” asked Bell.

 

“There’s bones.”

 

“Animal bones?”

 

“No, human. There’s a skull. I think it might be a whole dang skeleton!”

  


POLK COUNTY MORGUE  
2:46 PM

 

The bones were sent to Des Moines, the nearest place with a facility equipped to handle the identification of skeletal remains. Scully made the hour and a half drive so she could perform the forensic examination herself. She was glad to have something to focus on. Mulder had stayed behind in New Buda. The Trautwein’s oldest daughter was back from her school trip, and Mulder wanted to ask her some questions.

 

The bones made up almost a complete skeleton. Teeth had been found, and Scully was certain they’d be able to ID it with dental records. Right now she was looking for the cause of death, and she found it in the hyoid bone. The U-shaped bone in the neck was fractured which pointed to strangulation. Scully stated this aloud for the overhead microphone.  

  


TRAUTWEIN RESIDENCE  
3:15 PM

 

Eve handed Mulder the card. It looked like a Christmas card, but instead of Santa, there was an image of Krampus. Above it were the words _Gruß vom Krampus._ The card was blank inside.

 

“You found this in your locker? When?”

 

“Wednesday last week,” she said. “I just figured it was a prank. I didn’t think much of it really. Then I left the next day.”

 

Eve, the Trautwein’s sixteen-year-old daughter, had left to be in a holiday parade in Michigan with her school’s marching band. She had not been home the night of the break in and learned about it only when she got back. Eve had told Mulder that once she’d heard the description of the creature from her mother, she had remembered the strange card that she had found.

 

“Do you know of anyone that would want to play a prank on you?”

 

“There’s a group at school that I don’t get along with very well, but this seems extreme for them. And they’re not very bright or imaginative. I highly doubt they could come up with something like this.”

 

Mulder nodded. “I’m gonna keep this,” he said, holding up the Krampus card, then he fished in his pocket for his business card. “Will you let me know if you think of anything else?”

 

“Yeah, sure,” said Eve, taking the card from him. “Do you know whose body it is that they found in the wall? Does it have something to do with this Krampus thing?”

 

“My partner is working on that. Hopefully, we will have some answers for your family soon.”

  


NINE EAGLES MOTOR LODGE  
8:21 PM

 

Mulder sat at the table in his motel room looking at the Krampus card and eating sunflower seeds with his phone tucked up to his ear. Scully was going over everything she had found.

 

“It’s got to be the previous owner of the house, this Germain Winters,” Mulder speculated. “Sheriff Pace said he went missing and that’s why the house was seized by the bank. No living next of kin.”

 

“Most likely, yes. We should have the confirmation from the dental records in the morning,” said Scully.

 

“It’s not just a break-in anymore, we’ve got a homicide on our hands.”

 

“How does this fit in with your Krampus theory, Mulder?”

 

“I’m not sure how, but it is connected. They found a bundle of birch twigs next to the bones, Scully. You know what that means?”  
  
  


“Are you referring to the Ruten? Branches of birch that Krampus uses to swat at bad children.”

 

Mulder took a shell out of his mouth and grinned. He loved when she spouted off facts that pertained to his theories that she didn’t believe in. “I’m impressed, Scully.”

 

“Yeah, well…” She trailed off. “Did they find any prints on that Krampus card?”

 

“Nope, it’s clean. Looks like we will be questioning high school kids tomorrow.”

 

“Oh joy,” she said sarcastically.

 

Mulder smiled again. “You driving back tonight?”

 

“Yes. I’ve just finished up here.”

 

“Okay, drive safe, Scully. See you tomorrow.”


	6. Chapter 6

7 DAYS BEFORE CHRISTMAS  
GARDEN GROVE HIGH SCHOOL  
2:03 PM

 

“Eve was right, that lot isn’t clever enough to pull off any of this.”

 

Before Scully could agree her cell phone rang. “Agent Scully,” she said, answering it. “Yes, thank you for getting back to me ...oh? ...yes, please, if you can, the sooner the better ...I’ll call you back with the fax number for the local station here ...thank you ...uh, yeah, Merry Christmas to you, too.” She hung up. Mulder looked at her expectantly.

 

“That was Inspector Davis with the Canadian Mounted Police. Turns out Germain Winters’ sister, Julia Fischer, was found murdered in her home in Edmonton not too long before he had gone missing. Get this, Mulder, the cause of death was strangulation.”

 

“Was anyone charged with the murder?”

 

“No, Davis said he will try to get us the file, but it might take some time to get through international red tape.”

 

“What now, then?” he asked, impatiently. The dental records had come back as a match to the previous owner of the Trautwein’s house like they had thought. Scully had done some digging and tracked down who would’ve been his next of kin and stood to inherit the property.

 

Scully opened her mouth to say something then shut it. Mulder saw. “What?”

 

“Well, I, it’s probably nothing,” Scully said, “but something keeps nagging at me about that guy, Mr. Perchta.”

 

“What about him?”

 

“I was reading up on Krampus folklore and some connections came up in our conversation with him.”

 

Mulder’s eyes lit up. “Like what?” he asked, eagerly.

 

“First off, his name, Perchta. That’s the name of a pagan goddess who is a female companion to Krampus. She visits homes during the twelve days of Christmas and the Epiphany to reward the generous and punish the lazy and the greedy.”

 

“So naughty and nice,” Mulder interjected.

 

“Yep,” said Scully, brushing a strand of hair back away from her face. “Then he mentioned that he makes his own distilled fruit brandy, and that’s basically what schnapps is.”

 

Mulder nodded. “You offer Krampus schnapps to appease him, right.”

 

“It’s a leap, I know.”

 

“It’s just my kinda leap,” he said, proudly. “I think you’re onto something, Scully. Let’s go question him.” He got up out of his seat in the empty cafeteria.

 

Scully made a motion for him to wait. “I was thinking…” She hesitated—it was out of her depth to entertain these investigative methods, these Mulder-like methods. “What if we went to his house under the guise of looking at his Christmas lights, you know, like he invited us to. He may have a looser tongue if he thought we were there in an unofficial capacity.”

 

Mulder thought about this, the corners of his mouth inching upward. “Yeah, looser tongues are good.”

 

Scully was able to keep a composed expression, but the comment made her anxious. They shared a long, challenging look, then Scully dropped her gaze and stood up, and Mulder said, “So tonight, we’ll go pay Mr. Perchta a visit.” He almost added, “It’s a date,” but saw that Scully was uncomfortable. It was probably not the best way to ease back into an extension of their intimate moment from the other night by goading her with too much innuendo.

 

She nodded. “Let’s go. I want to get back to the station so I can give Inspector Davis the fax number.”

  


PERCHTA RESIDENCE  
7:33 PM

 

They walked up the glowing walkway to Mr. Perchta’s front door. “Jesus,” Scully muttered, shielding her eyes. Mulder chuckled and rang the doorbell.

 

Mr. Perchta opened the door and grinned widely. “Well, lookie there!”

 

“Hi, Mr. Perchta,” said Mulder. “We thought we’d take you up on your offer and come admire your handiwork.”

 

“I’m so glad you did.” He stepped aside and gestured for them to come in. “I’ll get that hot cocoa going.” Mulder let Scully go in first and put his hand at the small of her back, then followed.

 

“Go ahead and look around,” their host said, “I’ll just be here in the kitchen.”

 

The inside was just as decorated as the outside, maybe even more so. The house was very small and made smaller by all the Christmas clutter. Mulder and Scully went into the tiny sitting room next to the kitchen. There was a fire going in the hearth and on the mantle sat about fifteen little elves, the same as Bowie, Natalie Trautwein’s elf. Mulder looked at Scully who raised her eyebrows.

 

The modest tree was topped with a star, and what looked like handmade wooden ornaments festooned the boughs. They were mostly of angel-like figures, but instead of the usual youthful angels, they portrayed old women wearing black cloaks underneath their wings. Silver and gold painted branches were tucked in all around. A track encircled the trunk on the floor on top of a tree skirt made to look like a blanket of snow with a festive train chugging along it. An old gramophone stood on a stand beside the tree, a Christmas carol floating out of its brass horn. Mulder looked at the spinning record, but couldn’t make out the label. Scully said, ‘It’s ‘Silent Night.’ In its original German.”

 

Mr. Perchta poked his head in the room. “Marshmallows or whipped cream?”

 

“Uh…” Mulder looked at Scully, shrugged, and said, “Marshmallows?”

 

“Okie doke!”

 

Scully arched an eyebrow. “He’s very…”

 

“Jolly?” Mulder suggested. Scully huffed out a laugh.

 

Once he had the hot cocoa made, the three of them went outside and stood on the sidewalk looking back at his illuminated little house.

 

“Do you work, Mr. Perchta?” Mulder asked.

 

“You mean I must not to have all this time on my hands, eh?” He chortled heartily. “I do. I work for the county.”

 

“Oh yeah? In what capacity?” prompted Scully.

 

“Janitorial and Maintenance.”

 

Mulder blew on his drink and then took a sip. “This is excellent, Mr. Perchta. Thank you.”

 

“A lot of your decorations look handmade. Are you a craftsman as well?” Scully asked.

 

Mr. Perchta nodded. “Yes, I enjoy making things. I do some woodworking and whatnot. It’s nice to keep busy.” He took a drink of his hot chocolate, then glanced at Mulder and Scully. “You two are keeping pretty busy, too, eh? The FBI doesn’t let you have time off for the holiday?”

 

“Not when there’s work to be done,” Mulder answered. “We’re trying to make the best of it.” He held up his mug in a toasting gesture to him. Mr. Perchta did it back, smiling, but not as easily as he had been.

 

“You know, I was thinking about Mrs. Stableman,” started Mr. Perchta. “I believe she was here Saturday night if that helps with...whatever it is you are investigating.”

 

“We contacted her at her sister’s,” Scully said. “She left on Friday.”

 

“Oh?” Mr. Perchta became flustered but recovered quickly. He tapped the side of his head. “This old noggin, I tell ya,” he chaffed, grinning at Scully.

 

They finished their drinks, thanked Mr. Perchta, and walked across the street to their car. He waited on the sidewalk, watching them, and waved as they drove off.

 

“His house was decorated with clues that point to him, wasn’t it?” mused Mulder.

 

“Pretty much,” Scully agreed. “Enough to bring him in or to get a search warrant?”

 

“We’ll have to talk to the Sheriff. I want to go back to the station and look into his job with the county. It may give him access to the public schools. He could’ve put the card in Eve’s locker.” He looked in the rearview mirror and turned onto the main street. “This was a good call, Scully.”


	7. Chapter 7

6 DAYS BEFORE CHRISTMAS  
NEW BUDA SHERIFF’S STATION  
1:27 PM

 

Scully found Mulder in the interrogation room going over his preliminary background check on Julian Perchta. Part of his job did entail the cleaning and maintenance of the public schools, including Garden Grove High School.

 

“I just got off the phone with an inspector from Edmonton that worked Julia Fischer’s murder case. She gave me some details. They still haven’t cleared them to send the file to us yet,” said Scully. “One of their suspects was her husband, Ernst Fischer, but they never found enough to charge him. He moved away shortly after, no forwarding address. He worked with a local theater troupe that specialized in puppetry, building sets and making costumes, but the kicker is this troupe organized a Krampuslauf every year, a parade honoring Krampus.”

 

“That’s our guy, Scully. Can they at least send us a photo of him?”

 

“Not until they get the go ahead to send the file. Inspector Davis said we might have it tonight, tomorrow at the latest.”

 

“Did they mention motive?”

 

“No, by all accounts, Julia and Ernst were happily married.”

 

They both thought for a moment, then Scully considered aloud, “Perchta was wearing a wedding ring and he mentioned that his wife used to call him Clark Griswold. Suppose he killed her, changed his name, and moved here. Julia. Julian.”

 

Mulder was nodding along. “He moved here because of her brother. Maybe Winters knew or suspected him of killing his sister.”

 

“That’s likely,” Scully concurred. “But why terrorize the Trautwein’s?”

 

“He wanted the house?” speculated Mulder. “Last night he kept apologizing for how small his house is. The Trautwein’s is considerably larger and nicer.”

 

“This is more than enough to bring him in.”

  


DECATUR COUNTY PUBLIC WORKS  
2:23 PM

 

Mulder could see the reindeer antlers worn by Marjorie, the county clerk, in the next cubicle over. He tapped his fingers on the counter at the front desk, then looked at Scully and rolled his eyes when he heard the woman laugh loudly and continue chatting with whomever it was she was supposed to be getting Perchta’s work order from.

 

Finally, Marjorie came back around, red and green lights flashing from the knitted Christmas tree on the front of her sweater. She was dabbing at the corner of her eye, still chuckling. “Oh, that was a good one. You guys gotta hear it,” she tittered. “Why is Santa’s sack so big?”

 

Mulder and Scully stared back at her blankly, then Mulder humored her, “I don’t know. Why?”

 

“Because he only comes once a year!” Marjorie roared with laughter again. Mulder chuckled in spite of himself and glanced at Scully; he could tell she was fighting back a laugh as well. “Okay, okay,” Marjorie said, calming herself. “Perchta is on a job up in Van Wert, at the courthouse.”

 

“Thank you, Marjorie,” Scully said, and they turned to leave.

 

In the car, Scully got out the map. “Van Wert is about 25 miles away.”

 

“I say we go to his house, search around. There was a shed in the back we might be able to get into.”

 

Scully gave Mulder the obligatory disapproving squint and then agreed, folding the map back up.

  


PERCHTA RESIDENCE  
3:05 PM

 

There was a heavy duty padlock on Perchta’s shed, but Mulder found a window that he was able to jimmy open. Scully, being small enough, climbed through with a boost from Mulder. She noticed, and enjoyed, that he moved his hand from her thigh to her ass and seemed to linger there longer than necessary.

 

It was dark inside, the darkened gray sky providing little light through the one, small frosted windowpane. Scully turned on her flashlight and looked around. There was a workbench with tools all organized on a pegboard on the wall above it. “Mulder, there’s a welding machine here,” she called out.

 

Scully backed up and bumped into something behind her, something that felt like a person. Scully spun around and was face to face with Krampus, well, face to chest, the figure was tall and towering. She gasped and stumbled back, shining the light directly on it.

 

“Scully?!” Mulder shouted.

 

“I’m okay,” she said, exhaling a deep breath. “It’s the Krampus costume.” She stepped closer to it. The figure was still, and Scully looked behind it to see how it was rigged, but saw no hook or stand. As she moved back to the front of it, its arm extended as if someone flicked a switch, bringing it to life.

 

The motion caught her by surprise and she was unable to react. The monster’s hand landed a brutal blow on the side of her head, knocking her into the wall. Scully was dazed; she tried to focus her eyes on the creature which had started to move toward her.

 

Mulder, hearing the clamor, ran around to the door of the shed, and started kicking at the wood jamb. “Scully!”

 

Scully shook her head to break out of the fog she was in from the impact. She saw the monster open its mouth, menacingly, and its black tongue unfurled, long and snake-like. Scully felt up beneath her for the gun at her hip, struggling with even the smallest movement, pain pounding at her temple.

 

Mulder continued to ram at the door with little success, his chest tight with panic. He kept yelling her name as if it could help her. He thought about shooting out the lock but wasn’t sure where Scully was inside the shed, and he didn’t want to risk hitting her.

 

The creature bent down over Scully, its tongue sliding across her cheek; it felt rubbery; she grimaced. Then her fingers made contact with the butt of her gun and she took hold of it, pulling it from its holster.

 

Mulder’s next kick sent his foot through the door, he wiggled it out and looked through the hole. “SCULLY!” he yelled, seeing the creature poised above her. Mulder stood back up, slamming his shoulder forcefully into the splintered part of the door.

 

Then he heard the gunshot.

 

He froze.

 

There were long seconds of silence.

 

Then, “Mulder. Mulder, I’m...I’m okay.”

 

He let out a big, relieved sigh and went back to breaking down the door. When he finally got through, there was Scully standing over the creature’s body. She had its head in her hands. Stepping closer, he saw Julian Perchta on the ground wearing the costume, dead.

 

Mulder went to Scully and touched her cheek. There was blood covering her ear and trailing down her neck. She was breathing heavily still, and her eyes looked unfocused. “Hey,” Mulder said, putting his finger under her chin, guiding her to look at him. “He got you pretty good, huh?”

 

She nodded, licked her dry lips, and put her hand out for his support. Mulder helped her to sit down, then called for back-up.  


	8. Chapter 8

5 DAYS BEFORE CHRISTMAS  
NINE EAGLES MOTOR LODGE  
12:44 PM

 

“I got us an evening flight, out of Des Moines.”

 

Scully nodded and continued to pack her suitcase.

 

“And I finished up with Pace,” Mulder went on. “He was over at the Trautwein’s this morning to let them know about Perchta—or rather about Ernst Fischer.”

 

“Good,” Scully said. “Are you all packed?”

 

“Yeah,” he answered. “There’s just one thing I want to do on our way out of town.”

 

“Okay,” said Scully, furrowing her brow. The action caused her to wince, pulling at the stitch she had near her hairline.

 

“How are you feeling?” asked Mulder, noticing her discomfort.

 

“Fine.” She smiled as she said it to assure him.

 

The doctor at the hospital had examined her yesterday and sutured the small laceration, saying she’d suffered a minor concussion. He advised they wait to travel until the next day. Scully—not normally an easy patient, doctors rarely were—had surprisingly agreed.

  


TRAUTWEIN RESIDENCE  
1:19 PM

 

“Bowie!” Natalie exclaimed.

 

Mulder handed her the elf. “All better. Santa has cleared him to return to active duty.”

 

She hugged the doll, then Mulder’s legs. Her parents watched on, smiling. Mary Jane mouthed “Thank you” to him. Natalie stood back, beaming up at Mulder, then she turned to her sister. “Evie! Look!” she said, showing her the elf.

 

“I know. So cool. Let’s go have him rest up in your room. We’ll put on _Ziggy Stardust_ for him.”

 

“Merry Christmas, Mr. Mulder,” said Natalie. Eve took her hand and they went up the stairs.

 

“That was very nice of you,” Seamus said.

 

Mulder shrugged. “Perchta had a whole collection of them.”

 

“It’s all so strange,” considered Mary Jane. “How creepy to think we have been living by this man all this time.”

 

“You don’t know why he killed his wife or her brother?” asked Seamus.

 

“No, we can only speculate,” answered Scully, “but we did get more answers than we usually do with our cases.” She saw, or rather felt, Mulder grinning beside her.

 

“Well, we can’t thank both of you enough,” Mary Jane said. “You’ve given us the gift of peace of mind this holiday.”

 

Mulder and Scully politely smiled, shook hands with the Trautweins, and said goodbye.

 

“That’s a first,” said Mulder as they walked to their car.

 

“What?”

 

“Me giving someone peace of mind.”

 

Scully laughed. “You’ve certainly never given it to me.”

 

“Maybe you should ask Santa for it.”

 

He opened the car door for her and she got in, a smirk on her lips. “Maybe I will.”

  


SCULLY’S APARTMENT  
WASHINGTON, DC  
9:37 PM

 

Mulder handed Scully her suitcase. She had insisted several times on the way from his car to her door that she didn’t need the help. Mulder had been more insistent though.

 

He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets and bounced on the balls of his feet with an eager and nervous energy. “I’ll go into the office tomorrow, write up the report and turn it in. A little early Christmas present for you, Scully.”

 

“Wow, how nice,” she said with sarcasm. “I did most of the work on the plane, so it shouldn’t be too difficult at all,” Scully teased. She thought she saw his cheeks color slightly.

 

“So you’re saying I should still get you something,” Mulder deadpanned.

 

She chuckled. “No, Mulder. We agreed we wouldn’t, remember?”

 

“Okay, Scully,” he said, noncommittally. “What are you gonna do now? For the holiday, I mean.”

 

“I guess I’ll go to my mom’s.”

 

“She didn’t go to San Diego?”

 

“No, they flew here this year.”

 

“Oh,” Mulder said. Disappointment crossed his face.

 

“Are you going to go see your mother?”

 

He shook his head. “Nah. That’s not really our thing.”

 

Scully nodded sympathetically. “Well, Merry Christmas, Mulder.”

 

He smiled a sad sort of smile. “Merry Christmas, Scully.” He rubbed the leaf of the mistletoe inside his pocket between his fingers. Mulder had seen it on the counter among other impulse holiday items at the gas station they had stopped at upon leaving long-term parking on an almost empty tank. He had bought it determined to make a move at her doorstep. Somehow the news that she would be spending Christmas with her family was discouraging and kept him from going through with his plan. Mulder turned, reluctant but decided. “G’night,” he murmured.

 

“Goodnight,” she replied, watching him leave, wondering. Scully felt there was something missing, but it was in a vague way; she couldn’t tell if Mulder had meant to say more than he had or if just him leaving gave her the feeling. Then Scully admonished herself—she had caused the feeling, of course. She had started something with that kiss and they had never addressed it, she hadn’t let them. And she found now that she was struck with the same paralyzing anxiety, unable to bring herself to call out after him.


	9. Chapter 9

4 DAYS BEFORE CHRISTMAS  
MULDER’S APARTMENT  
ALEXANDRIA, VA  
5:34 PM

 

“I could drive up there,” Mulder said with a contrary mixture of dread and hope. “If you want.”

 

“Oh, no, Fox, that’s not necessary,” was his mother’s reply. “I was going to go to the club with the Mansfields. They put on a lovely spread Christmas Eve.”

 

“That sounds nice.”

 

“And we’ve never been big on celebrating anyway,” she reasoned.

 

“No, I know.”

 

There was a short silence.

 

“I thought you might be spending it with your partner actually.”

 

“No, uh, she has her family in town,” said Mulder, then a lie, “which is good. I can use the break. I’m sure she can, too.”

 

“Good,” she responded, oblivious to any of the falseness or sadness in his statement. “I appreciate you calling, Fox. Merry Christmas.”

 

“Merry Christmas, Mom.” Mulder hung up the phone, crossed his arms, and stared out the window at the blustery winds shaking the bare branches of the trees. He hadn’t even wanted to go visit his mother, but his lonely feelings had gotten the better of him. Who was he kidding thinking that being with her would make him feel any less lonely? Just talking to her compounded the feeling. And she didn’t want him there.

 

His mind turned to Scully. He had wanted her to invite him to be with her family for the holiday, even if it meant dealing with Bill Jr. and his contempt and derisive remarks—as long as he could be by Scully’s side.

 

A knock at the door pulled him out from under his depressing thoughts that had begun to avalanche.

 

And, of course, it was Scully.

 

She smiled brightly first, then cleared her throat—apprehension clouding her features. “Can I come in?”

 

Mulder had been surprised to see her so he hadn’t stepped aside to let her in. “Yeah,” he said, flustered. “Please.”

 

Scully stayed standing by the door once inside. She took off her gloves and tucked them into her jacket pocket, her eyes flicking around, unable to meet Mulder’s. “Mulder, I owe you an explanation.”

 

“Scu--”

 

She put her hand up. “Please, let me.”

 

He nodded and made a motion for her to go on.

 

“I kissed you because I want to have that between us,” stated Scully, then on a desperate sigh, “so badly.” She caught herself. “And I stopped it because I’m afraid.” Now she glanced up at him. “I’m afraid of what it might do to us, to what we already have.”

 

“Scully,” he said, stepping to her. “I’m afraid of that, too. But I believe that what we have is strong enough to handle it.”

 

“You do?”

 

“I do.” Mulder reached out and caressed her cheek.

 

Scully leaned into it. “You do want this?” Her doubt that he wanted her the same way she wanted him was falling away, but she still needed to be sure.

 

“Yes,” he said, his face now close to hers, his breath on her lips. “So badly.”

 

He kissed her—and even though they had kissed before this was like the first time; they both knew each other’s whole hearts were behind it.

 

And Scully’s leapt within her chest; Mulder felt as though his was lodged in his throat.

 

The sweet kiss quickly became frenzied as they pawed at one another. Scully’s jacket and sweater were off in a flash, and the force of Mulder pressed her back into the door. His hands ran up and down her body as if he meant to touch her everywhere all at once. They settled on the waistline of her pants, undoing the button and lowering the zipper.

 

Scully was unable to catch her breath, deliciously trapped and wrapped up in Mulder’s passion. He kissed his way down her chest, her skin burning wherever he touched her. Not bothering with the removal of her bra, he yanked the cups down, wedging them under her tits and descended on them with his mouth.

 

It was a feverish but brief detour. He dropped to his knees and pulled Scully’s pants and underwear down her legs to access his desired destination. He begrudgingly took the time to fully remove her clothing from around her feet, the smell of her arousal taunting him.

 

Then his lips were on her sex and his tongue inside her. Scully threw her head back, banging it on the door behind her. There was a sting of pain at her temple at the gash, but she barely registered it—what was pain when the pleasure was this good. Her mind floated back to that motel room where she had fucked herself against their adjoining door. That was pain with little pleasure, heartbreak demanding a joyless release. This was the opposite of that in every way.

 

His tongue made its way to her clit and he flicked it and sucked at it with his lips. She cried out as she came, like her orgasm had snuck up on her and surprised her. “Oh!”

 

Mulder stood up and planted soft kisses along her collarbone. “You okay?” he whispered, prideful but sincere.

 

“Dizzy,” she murmured between heavy breaths.

 

“Your head?” he asked, concerned.

 

“No.” Scully smiled. “You. You’ve made me dizzy.”

 

Mulder scooped her up, her arms going ‘round his neck, and he carried her to the couch, laying her down gingerly. He started to undress. She watched him, and he stood there naked, letting her.

 

“God, you are beautiful,” she said.

 

Mulder had never been told that nor had Scully ever said it to a man. But it was true. Every inch of his body was beautiful—lanky, but everything in perfect proportion. Muscle and sinew, soft and hard. She put her hand out for him to sit, and he did, on the edge next to her hip as she swung her legs around and slid down to the floor, scooting on her knees to the space between his legs.

 

Scully ran her hands up and down his thighs, pressing firmly into him with her fingertips, kneading—and needing. Her need to bring him to pleasure as he had done to her was like fire in her veins. She lowered her head and took him in her mouth.

 

Mulder brushed aside the hair that had fallen in front of her face. He wanted to see, not just feel, her lips around his cock. But he wasn’t prepared for the combination of both sensations—he made fists with his hands and pushed them down into the cushion of the sofa, all the muscles in him going tense. Scully hummed, vibrations transferring from her mouth to his shaft and filling his ears with the sensual sound. As if he needed another of his senses overwhelmed by her right now.

 

He felt his balls tighten, and Scully bobbed her head more ardently, somehow managing to run her tongue along the sensitive underside of his penis and around the head all at the same time. “Scu--” He was cut off by his own moan. Mulder put his fingers in her hair, gently, even though brute energy was rushing all through him. “Scully,” he tried again. “I’m--”

 

She only responded by sucking harder, her cheeks hollowing. Scully wanted to feel that hot surge of semen on the back of her throat, knowing she had brought him to it. Then with a grunt and an uncontrollable thrust of his hips, he came. Scully kept her mouth on him, swallowing down each salty spurt, trying not to smile too widely around him. She licked him clean and then crawled up into his lap, straddling him, his dick, wet with her saliva, resting against her stomach.

 

“Jesus, Scully,” he heaved out.

 

Scully nuzzled into his neck, chuckling softly. “I’m sorry. I had to.”

 

“Don’t ever apologize for that.”

 

She licked the shell of his ear, then took the lobe between her teeth. “But I still want you to fuck me.”

 

“That’s not going to be a problem if you keep talking like that.”

 

Scully grinded her hips into him. “I want your big, hard cock inside me.”

 

“Fuuuck.”

 

She leaned back, putting her hands on his thighs, still slowly and rhythmically rotating her pelvis against him. Mulder reached around her and unhooked her bra, finally removing the last piece of clothing between them. He pulled her close and took one pert nipple in his mouth. Then he licked his way to the other and sucked it between his lips, earning a moan from her.

 

Her hand gripped his semi-hard member and she stroked him. With a mouthful of her tits and her fingers around him, he soon dropped the “semi” part of the description, becoming pulsing and hot in her hand. “Ah,” she mewled triumphantly.  

 

Scully rose up and guided him to her entrance, lowering down slowly. They looked at each other, eyes full of awe. She stilled once he was fully inside her, savoring the feeling, and emotion welled up within her. A single tear spilled down her cheek. Mulder wiped it away with his thumb and nodded, acknowledging the gravity of it all. “I love you, Scully.”

 

It was her turn to nod, and she whispered back, “I love you, Mulder.”

 

Then they started to move. It was perfectly in tandem. Scully rode him, her hands on his shoulders and his at her hips. They didn’t take their eyes off of each other—their gazes an invisible link joining them. Scully came first, having had a longer period between orgasms. She kept up her movements despite the intense climax that was ripping through her, and Mulder was soon coming again, too.

 

Mulder pulled them both to lie down and covered their bodies, dewy with sweat cooling on their skin, with the blanket. “I knew it would be good, but I didn’t know it would be _that_ good,” he remarked.

 

Scully giggled and cuddled tighter to him. His chest rose up beneath her as he sighed a contented sigh. “What now?” she asked.

 

“I think we should keep doing that over and over and over until we’ve lost all feeling below the waist.”

 

She laughed again.

 

“No,” he said, rethinking, “we should get dressed--” Scully interrupted him with an objecting groan. Mulder chuckled and continued, “We should get dressed and go over to your place where you have an actual bed—one that functions as such.”

 

“All right,” she agreed. “As long as we get naked again as soon as we get there.”

 

“Deal.”


	10. Chapter 10

3 DAYS BEFORE CHRISTMAS  
SCULLY’S APARTMENT  
10:10 AM

 

They had followed through on that deal quite literally. As they entered her apartment the previous night, their hands were all over each other, as they had been in the car ride over. Once inside, those hands made quick work of removing one another’s clothes. They hadn’t even made it to the bed, which had been the goal, before Mulder took her down on the floor, making love to her again right there in the hallway. Eventually they made it to the bedroom and into the bed, and promptly fell asleep having worn each other out.

 

Scully woke up first this time. Earlier, around dawn, Mulder had, and coaxed the sleeping Scully out of her slumber for another round. It had been a slow and halcyon enterprise, different from their desperate deeds from the night before. Guided mostly by touch and only warming breaths passing between them, they fucked lazily; even their orgasms were languid, drawn-out and soft. They fell asleep again, Mulder still inside her.

 

She nuzzled into his chest and smiled. It felt so good to wake up in someone’s arms, and not just any someone, but Fox Mulder, the man she had loved for so many years. Scully ran her foot up and down his shin, her arms hugging around his waist. He stirred, humming affectionately. They looked at each other.

 

“Hi,” he said.

 

Scully grinned. “Hi.”

 

“I can’t believe I’m waking up to you,” said Mulder. His hand went down her back to her butt and he squeezed. “To a naked you.”

 

“It’s quite nice.”

 

“Mmhm,” he agreed. “Makes every morning before it seem like such a lonely existence.” She nodded her head against him. “Speaking of, let me confess something,” he said. Scully shifted and rested her chin on her hand, giving him a wary look. “That night you kissed me, I almost went after you. I stood at the door like a dope, not knowing what to do.” He hesitated and looked at her, his cheeks blushing. “I ended up jerking off, right there,” admitted Mulder. He watched the surprise on her face turn thoughtful.

 

“I, um, wow…”

 

He took this reaction as shock and felt embarrassed. Scully saw this and sat up—she would make a confession of her own. “Mulder, I did the same thing.” His brow wrinkled in confusion. She elaborated. “I got myself off...leaning against the door.”

 

Now Mulder said it: “Wow.”

 

Scully huffed out a laugh, amazed at the coincidence.

 

“We were in sync even before,” marveled Mulder.

 

She looked down at his lap, seeing the growing bulge beneath the sheet. “And we’re in sync now because this is totally turning me on, too.”

 

“What if we did it now, like that night,” Mulder suggested.

 

“What? Masturbate in front of each other?”

 

He shrugged. “Yeah.”

 

The contemplative quirk on her lips grew into a sly smile. “Okay,” she said, pushing down the covers. She moved to lay opposite him, propped up on her elbows at the end of the bed. Scully let her legs fall open, giving Mulder a full view of her pussy. His cock twitched at the sight of her wet, pink folds, and he took a firm grip on himself.

 

Scully decided to start a commentary, knowing now that Mulder enjoyed a bit of dirty talking. “I first thought about your lips,” she said. “How they had felt on mine. Then I imagined how they would feel on other parts of me.” Her hands cupped her breasts and she thumbed her nipples. They were perked and rosy, and a flush spread across her pale chest.

 

Mulder tugged at his shaft slowly and put his other hand on Scully’s calf which rested by his thigh. “I thought about how you had stuck your tongue in my mouth and the sounds you made. I wanted to make you make those sounds again.”

 

Scully moaned for him, then she pinched her nipples and whimpered.

 

“Jesus,” Mulder whispered.

 

Scully put her weight on one elbow and trailed her other hand down her stomach to her center. She dipped one finger inside her, then spread herself open for Mulder to see. His hand sped up around his cock, drips of pre-cum providing lubrication.

 

This prompted Scully to begin properly fucking herself, and her fingers pumped in and out. Their panting breaths soon became a ragged, staccato symphony punctuated by the wet, slapping noises that came from touching themselves.

 

“Scully.” Mulder grunted her name. He was hurtling toward a release he could neither slow nor delay.

 

Scully drew her fingers up to her clit and rubbed the slippery nub. “I bit my lip so I wouldn’t cry out when I came,” she purred.

 

Mulder saw her, through a fevered haze, trap her lower lip with her teeth. She looked so wanton and wild with her sleep-mussed hair and her flushed skin. Her eyes were set, trained on his dick, so she saw him come, spewing his seed across his stomach.  

 

Seeing his cum in milky ropes against the backdrop of his taut, rippled abdomen brought her to the edge—knowing exactly what he tasted like sent her over it. She did cry out now, biting her lip proving insufficient, and unnecessary, anyway, in this case.

 

Mulder, spent and supine, watched in awe as she spasmed against her hand, her lips parted, expelling labored bursts of breath. She fell back after the last wave of her orgasm rolled through her, but she only took rest for a moment. Scully crawled over to Mulder, leaned down, and licked a drop of his cum into her mouth.

 

“Holy shit,” Mulder uttered.

 

She lapped at him until he was clean, Mulder watching her with rapt attention. Then she laid on him, spread out on top of him, her face close to his, and shoved her fingers in his mouth. They were still covered with her arousal. He sucked on them hungrily.

 

She pulled them out once she was satisfied, then pressed her lips into his. He opened his mouth to her and she thrust her tongue inside, wet and heavy. A low growl rose out of his throat. His cock began to stiffen under her hip, and she smiled against his lips.


	11. Chapter 11

2 DAYS BEFORE CHRISTMAS  
SCULLY’S APARTMENT  
11:22 AM

 

They were asleep again. The last 42 hours had consisted of alternating between sleep and sex with a couple of breaks to eat here and there. Mulder had told Scully that she had turned him into the Energizer Bunny which was a good analogy considering they were fucking like rabbits. He was always able to get hard for her—she was like recreational Viagra for him in human form.

 

The ring from a cell phone floated to her ears, and she rolled over, her limbs tangled up in Mulder. She groaned sleepily. “Mulder, your phone.”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Your phone,” she said again, unwilling to wake up any further.

 

Mulder sat up and looked toward the trilling sound. It was coming from her dresser, _her_ cell phone was ringing. “It’s yours.”

 

“What?” mumbled Scully.

 

“It’s your phone.” He got out of bed and brought the phone to her, reading the screen. “It’s your mom.”

 

This information brought her awake. Scully sat up, holding the sheet over her chest and took the phone. Mulder got back in bed as Scully answered her mother’s call.

 

“Hi, Mom.”

 

“Hi, dear. Just getting a final count for dinner tomorrow. Are you still out of town?”

 

“Uh, yep.”

 

“My goodness. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that you are working through the holiday.”

 

“It’s okay. It’s not a difficult case,” said Scully, glancing at Mulder and smiling, “and besides, I’m really enjoying spending this time with Mulder.”

 

“Oh, I’m glad to hear that. Wish him a Merry Christmas from me.”

 

“Will do.”

 

“We’re going to miss you.”

 

“Give everyone my best, okay?”

 

Maggie agreed and they said goodbye. Scully pushed the end button on the phone and tossed it aside.

 

Mulder wrapped her up in his arms. “You didn’t tell your mom you were back?”

 

Scully shook her head. “I’d rather be with you,” she said, “and have you all to myself.”

 

He strummed his fingers up and down her spine. “There’s something about you lying to your mother while you’re naked in bed with me…”

 

Scully giggled. Then she snuck her hand in between them, curling her fingers around his hardening cock. “Hold that thought, tiger,” she said. “Save it for the bath.”

 

“Are you gonna run me a bath?”

 

“Us,” she corrected. “Yes.”

 

“Well, we’ve christened your shower already. It only makes sense to have sex in the tub, too.”

 

Scully filled the bathtub with steaming hot water, bubbles, and a few drops of lavender oil. Mulder lit some candles and set them around the bathroom. He got in first, his long legs having to bend a lot at the knees; Scully nestled in his lap, her back resting on his stomach. They both let out blissful sighs in unison and laughed at yet another sign of them being so in sync.

 

They luxuriated in the soothing water for a while, Mulder leisurely dripping palmfuls of water on her shoulders and chest. Scully almost fell asleep at one point. Once the temperature started to cool, Mulder reached for the loofah and squirted some shower gel onto it, squeezing it in his hands, soaping it up. He washed as much of his body that he could reach, then did the same to Scully, smiling as she let him lift her arms or tilt her neck.

 

“Will you wash my hair?”

 

“I thought you’d never ask,” joked Mulder.

 

Scully sank down, putting her head back, wetting her hair. Mulder squeezed a dollop of her shampoo in the palm of his hand, lathered it, and ran the suds through the wet strands. He took his little task seriously and made sure to thoroughly wash her hair, then he massaged her scalp with the pads of his fingers, taking care to avoid the cut near her hairline.

 

“Mmm, you’re good at this,” she hummed.

 

“Sassoon. Vidal Sassoon,” Mulder said, mimicking the Bond phrase.

 

Scully chuckled, then lowered down again so he could rinse the shampoo out.

 

“Thank you, Mulder,” she said, turning on her side and nestling her head under his chin.

 

His hand smoothed over the curve of her ass. “Now that I got you clean, can I get dirty with you?” he whispered sensually in her ear.

 

“I thought _you’d_ never ask.”  

 

He shifted her so she was laying against him on her back again, then slid his fingers over her breasts, slick with the soapy bubbles. “Your tits are perfect,” he stated. “Do you know that?”

 

Scully smiled and reclined her head back to rest on his shoulder. Mulder leaned forward and took the shell of her ear gently between his teeth. “Perfect,” he growled again for emphasis. Mulder ran his hand under her left leg down to her calf and lifted it out of the water, draping it over the edge of the tub.

 

It spread her open for him and he plunged three fingers into her, knowing she was ready. “Mmmph,” keened Scully at the sudden but welcome invasion. He felt her walls contract to accommodate him.

 

“Okay?” he asked just to make sure.

 

“Mmmhmm,” was her appreciative reply.

 

He continued to fingerfuck her; his movements were slowed by the resistance of the water, but his long fingers went deep inside her. She moved her hips to his slow rhythm. His other hand went to her chest and he grabbed roughly, searching for friction on the slippery mound. He rolled her nipple between his fingers and she moaned, jutting her hips forward, sending him deeper. Scully threw her arm back, gripping behind his neck firmly with her hand. “Yesss, Mulder,” she hissed, followed by a sound that Mulder had come to adore.

 

The sounds that emanated from her during sex were some of the sweetest sounds he had ever heard. This one was not quite a sigh, but was too soft to be a moan and too delicate to be a grunt. It was so lovely that it defied description. It echoed in the chamber of his ears, then he heard the gentle lapping of the water against the tub, and then all that was drowned out by her shrieking his name. He had hit her g-spot. Her cunt clamped around his fingers, and he wiggled them, brushing over the spot again, drawing out her climax.

 

“Fuuuck,” she sighed as she loosened her hold on his neck. Her body melted into his.

 

She took a moment to catch her breath, then she wordlessly stood up and unplugged the drain. Scully looked down over her shoulder at him.

 

“Time to get out?” he guessed by her look.

 

“Time to fuck me from behind,” she answered, then bent forward, placing her hands on the side of the bathtub.

 

He got up, enthusiastic but careful not to slip, and rubbed his hands all over the heated, wet skin of her back and ass. Mulder took his dick in his hand and ran the tip up and down her entrance, then pushed inside. Her cunt was hot and swollen and tight. He swore he could still feel her pulsing from her orgasm. “Oh god, Scully, your pussy’s so fucking tight.”

 

She responded by squeezing her Kegel muscles around him. Mulder grunted, then took hold of her hips and pounded into her until they were both coming.


	12. Chapter 12

CHRISTMAS EVE  
SCULLY’S APARTMENT  
4:45 PM

 

“Are you sure you don’t want to go to your mom’s?”

 

“Yeah,” Scully said, shrugging.

 

“Cause I can promise I’ll be here waiting for you when you get back,” said Mulder, then motioning at his crotch he added, “Your Christmas present can be wrapped or unwrapped upon your return, whatever you prefer.”

 

“No, really, it’s fine. I’m not in the mood for a family get together,” she assured him. “I’m only in the mood for you.”

 

Mulder grinned. “Well, okay. Should we do something Christmasy, though?”

 

She looked around her undecorated living room. Scully had been a little bummed that she hadn’t a reason to decorate or time to get a tree this year. Just because she didn’t feel like going to her mother’s didn’t mean she wanted to forgo all celebration. “It’ll be a nightmare out there. It’s Christmas Eve.”

 

Mulder could see the disappointment in her, and he had just the idea to fix it. “I’ll brave it for you,” he said. “How about I go pick up some Chinese takeout and a bottle of wine?”

 

“Okay. That sounds good.”

 

After about two hours, Mulder still wasn’t back, and he wasn’t answering his cell phone. Scully tried not to worry and also pushed back feelings that she had been ditched. She paced the space in front of her couch, then heard the knock at the door. Why the hell was he knocking?

 

Scully opened the door. “Mul--” She was met with the fragrant branches of an evergreen tree.

 

Mulder poked his head out from behind the tree. “Ho ho ho!” The way her face lit up made his heart so full that it ached.

 

“What did you do?” she asked, helping him bring the tree inside.

 

“Oh, just picked up a few things.” He glanced back at the open door, guiding her to look. There were a bunch of bulging bags on the floor out in the hall and one wrapped rectangular box with a big, red bow on it.

 

They brought everything in, got the tree on the stand and filled the base with water, then he let her go through the bags. Mulder had not only gotten a tree but the trimmings as well. There were strands of lights, a couple dozen ornaments, and an angel for the top. One bag held their dinner and a bottle of wine and they opened up both.

 

Scully put on some Christmas music and poured them each a glass of wine. They passed the cartons of chow mein and ginger beef back and forth between them as they began to decorate. Mulder would stop every now and then to grab her and kiss her. Scully kept looking at him, amazed at all he had done to give her such a happy Christmas.

 

The tree looked beautiful once they were done. Mulder handed her one last ornament to put on. It was a ceramic one of two angels kissing. “Maybe we are each other’s guardian angels,” he said.

 

Scully was touched at his reference back to their conversation that night she had kissed him. She smiled, misty-eyed, but then teased him. “You don’t believe in guardian angels, Mulder.”

 

“Oh, that’s right. I believe in guardian _aliens_ ,” he said, winking.

 

Scully giggled. Mulder put his arm around her and they admired their tree. “It’s missing something,” he said. He turned around and picked up the wrapped present and put it underneath. “There we go.”

 

“Can’t I open it?”

 

“No, you gotta wait til morning like a good little girl.”

 

Scully pursed her lips into a pout. “Fine.”

 

“You can have your dessert now,” he offered as consolation, searching in the takeout bag for the fortune cookies. He pulled out one and looked in the bag for the other. “Damn. They only gave us one.”

 

“I’ll share,” she said, stealing it from his grasp. Scully unwrapped it from the plastic and broke it open, pulling out two fortunes.

 

Mulder raised his eyebrows. “Would you look at that.”

 

“What are the odds,” Scully said and handed him one. She read hers to herself and then looked up at him. “‘The love of your life is within your reach.’”

 

“That’s quite on the nose, isn’t it?” Mulder mused.

 

“What’s yours?”

 

Mulder held it up and read the small print, “‘Help, I’m trapped in a fortune cookie factory.’”

 

Scully laughed and took it from him. “It does not say that.” She read it herself and laughed again. He wasn’t kidding, it really did have the silly message.

 

He grabbed her around the waist and tickled her sides. “How dare you doubt the love of your life.”

 

Scully squealed with laughter. “That’s the whole basis of our relationship,” she said in between mirthful breaths. "You believe and I doubt."

 

Mulder fell back onto the sofa, pulling her with him. She snuggled beside him and kissed him on the cheek. “But, I believe in you, Mulder. And I believe that I love you.”

 

He pushed the hair back away from her face. “That’s something I have proof of. The love I see in your eyes, in the way you always have my back, and the way you challenge me. I love you, Scully.”  

 

Mulder brought her in tight and kissed her. She tasted like wine and ginger. The warmth of her warmed him to his bones. One present sat under the tree for her, but she had already given him the biggest gift—her trust and her love.


	13. Chapter 13

CHRISTMAS DAY  
SCULLY’S APARTMENT  
9:03 AM

 

Scully couldn’t wait any longer. She shook Mulder’s shoulder and whispered for him to wake up. “Merry Christmas, Mulder,” she said when he blinked his eyes open.

 

“Merry Christmas,” he mumbled in return, tugging at her to lie back down.

 

“I want to open my present.”

 

He lifted the sheet and looked under. “I’m already naked, though.”

 

She pulled his arm as she got out of bed. “C’mon.”

 

Scully put on a flannel robe and tossed Mulder his sweatpants. He put them on and followed her into the living room. She plugged in the lights on the tree and they blinked and glittered among the verdant branches. Mulder reached down for her present and saw a small wrapped gift next to it. “What’s this?”

 

Scully shrugged, smirking. They had agreed to not give each other presents so she hadn’t gotten him anything, but then he showed up with a nicely wrapped package for her. She knew of something that she had that would work as a present, so, last night once he had fallen asleep, she had gotten up and sneakily wrapped it.

 

“You first,” Mulder said, handing her the box.  

 

She untied the bow and carefully peeled back the folded seams of the paper.

 

“I shoulda known you’d unwrap presents this way,” he said, shaking his head. Scully threw the bow at him, hitting him the face.

 

Once the paper was off, not a single rip or tear in it, she opened the box. Inside, laying layered atop each other were three turtleneck sweaters—one in black, one in midnight blue, and one in ivory. “Wow, Mulder, these are so nice,” she said, feeling the soft fabric with her fingers. “Oh my god, are they cashmere?”

 

He nodded. “I guessed on the size. I hope they fit.”

 

Scully looked at the tag. “You guessed right. Mulder, they’re beautiful.” She hugged the ivory one up to her chin. “So random though,” she added.

 

“Well, I plan on giving you a lot of hickeys so you’re gonna need them.”

 

“Ah,” she said, “I see.” Scully leaned over and pressed a kiss into his lips. “Thank you. I love it.” She handed him the small box. “Your turn.”

 

Mulder tore through the paper, scraps of it going everywhere. He gave her a stern look. “That’s how it’s done.” He looked down at the box. “Bath salts,” he read aloud.

 

“It’s just the box,” she chuckled. “I had to improvise.”

 

He took off the lid, reached inside, and pulled out the item—shiny handcuffs dangled from his finger. Mulder tried to fight the smile forming on his lips. “Is this to confine me to the gates of Hell?”

 

“No,” said Scully, moving the boxes aside and crawling into his lap. “It’s to confine you to my bed so I can do all sorts of naughty things to you.”

 

“That sounds like heaven.”  

 

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Holidays and Merry New Year!


End file.
